


The One Where Accidents Happen

by summerlovin



Series: Come With Me (and escape) [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Background Relationships, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7026739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerlovin/pseuds/summerlovin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh yes. Screwed up. This author has a very nice choice of words, because it is what exactly happened to Éponine. And here's the godawful joke: she was with Combeferre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Accidents Happen

**Author's Note:**

> This happened. I swear I can handle this series. Technically this is not supposed to be publishedin AO3, but things happen. Everything happens in the world of Les Mis, actually.

     Éponine Thénardier hates Marius Pontmercy, in all honesty. Marius forgets about things (her), he ignores things (her), and can be completely oblivious about things (her very much so undying love). Alas, Éponine cannot bring it upon herself to hate Marius, nor Cosette, his girlfriend. If it makes him happy, Éponine would rather drown under all the pining than get all selfish and screwed up.

     Oh yes. Screwed up. This author has a very nice choice of words, because it is what exactly happened to Éponine. And here's the godawful joke: she was with Combeferre.

     The point is, Combeferre and Éponine do not mix. 'Ferre is that stoic nerd with a passion for moths and space and conspiracy theories that Grantaire actually favors more than shitty reality TV's. Combeferre is best friends with a man who wants to overthrow the government and another man who lives for parties and cats.

     Wait. You need a moral? The moral of this story is: this is a mistake. Conspiracy theories do not mix with Keeping Up With The Kardashians. They don't hang out, they especially don't fuck around. And by fuck around, I mean they both fucked each other because they were wasted.

     Memories are non-existent. If there are memories, they are blurry and hazy. Éponine remembers a party in Cosette's apartment, since Papa Valjean likes Cosette living the princess life and therefore has a huge-ass space that costs more than all of Éponine's clothes. She remembers Bahorel and Feuilly fighting near the doorway, then kissing a few minutes later. 

     Enjolras was also totally checking out Grantaire, but one may never confirm. 

     Éponine eyes her clothes spilled on the floor. Maybe if she quietly sneaks out of Combeferre's condo, they both will forget about this. But, you know, everyone knows 'Ferre makes the best breakfasts. (His scrambled eggs are to die for. Although Feuilly told them that he makes better eggs, everyone knows he's lying. That bastard.) Who would pass up for free, amazingly edible breakfasts?

     Comebeferre stirs from his side of the bed with a groan and a soft sigh as Éponine slowly turns around with her heart pounding like a running gazelle. Let's not be liars here: Combeferre is a hot nerd, the one God made especially for girls who have a taste and really good standards, if not high. (Éponine notes to thank God later in private.) She stares for a few more seconds then stands up, gathering her clothes and throwing it on her. She picks up her old-ass boots and tip toes to the door.

     "Breakfast?" Damn it. God fucking damn it. Nevermind the thanksgiving to the Lord. Éponine's hand freezes on the door knob. She could twist it, get out of his room, out of his condo, and obsess over her mistakes with Grantaire. Easy, quick, and free. "I also would like to think you have a migraine. Some aspirin?"

     She turns around with a sickly sweet/sarcastic smile. "Nah. I'll pass. I have work, and my mom would want me in the inn to swing by, so. Yeah." She shrugs the tension off. Is it obvious that she's faking the nonchalance? 

     'Ferre sighs and his eyes darts to his clothes on the floor for a moment, before going back to Éponine. He reaches for his glasses on the bedside table and sits upright, brushing a hand through his hair. The author would like to tell you that Combeferre is fucking sexy. "Look, we're still friends, right?" Éponine snorts before she could think. "Watch it young lady. I do not like that attitude."

     "Don't stand up," she raises a hand towards him, taints of pink crawling from her neck to her cheeks. "You're buck-naked and I don't want to cause more issues." Combeferre licks his lips then nods. "It's a mistake, you asshole. Stop pretending like you're not panicking."

     "But," he puts on the Combestare, "this is literally the America. 70% of teens had at least one experience with one night stands."

     Éponine shakes her heads and scrunches her nose. "And you condone it? As a doctor, I thought you'd be more wary of it." Combeferre shrugs. "You're crazy. I don't want to know how you knew 70% of teens in America have pre-marital sex, like reading those kind of statistics is a fucking habit."

     He pushes up his glasses and leans his head to his side, staring at Éponine intently. "So. Breakfast?" 

     Fuck you. Combeferre makes the best scrambled eggs ever.

+   =   +   =  +   =   +   =

     Their breakfast ends with a quick fuck, and so does their day together. Comebeferre had to think of Bossuet in a bikini to stop from coming when Éponine moaned, "daddy," to him.

+   =   +   =  +   =   +   =

     Seven years later, Combeferre and Éponine with the Les Amis are laughing about the origins of their love story during their reception. Grantaire insisted on sharing the best man title with Enjolras since he's really keen on embarrassing Éponine in front of a crowd, and even if Éponine should be raging, she's really not.

     She's married now to the love of her life (not Marius) and that's what matters.


End file.
